


Broken

by aquarelle05



Category: The Evil Within, The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Drug Use, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-28 07:14:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2723450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquarelle05/pseuds/aquarelle05
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As he looked to the flask of  pills on the table, Ruben's tired mind wandered to Laura, the fire, and his lost childhood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken

The mice’s quick steps broke the silence now and then as the small creatures’ climbed bookshelves and chewed on the old dusty leather of old dusty books. The Victoriano manor had had plague problems for as long as Ruben could remember.

Hot pools of red stared at him from a pile of leather and paper. The white mouse stood on its hind legs, scratched his muzzle, squeaked once and then ran away. Ruben’s eyes followed it silently, chin placed on the heel of his palm as the fast ball of white fur faded into the dark emptiness of the old, musky smelling library. Probably off to ruin another century-old tome. Ruben placed his thumb and index finger firmly onto his closed eyelids, rubbing in circles. Red and orange and purple spots danced and sparked in front of his vision.

He opened his eyes, blinked once, twice. For a moment, the words fused into meaningless shapes.

_‘Just one more page.’_  He thought, thumb and index finger closing onto the corner of the yellowed paper.  _‘Then I’ll rest.’_

One more page, one more chapter, the whole tome. The sentences blurred on the old paper, the drawings showing anatomy just a blur, words a faint mist of black and white. Ruben blinked, rubbed his eyes for the thousandth time with the heels of his hands. The piles of books and documents sitting atop the desk didn’t seem smaller, even scattered over the well-worn wood. Blue eyes moved to the full bottle of pills, the dark green pearls squeezed together inside the small plastic flask; a cup of water stood right behind them, as it had been for the last five hours. He took the flask and then sank back into his chair, hearing it creak beneath his weight. Fingers that had once been fine and elegant moved the object with practiced ease that spoke of many years of physiotherapy, eyes inspecting the way the candle light reflected on the clear material clasped by horribly burnt digits.

The pills would help him stay awake for another eight hours, he knew. With a swift movement of his thumb, the plastic lid opened with a faint ‘pop’. He took one out, thought better about it, and gave the bottle another small shake. With two pills caught between his teeth, Ruben turned to the grandfather clock at the other side of the library; hastily, he wrote down the time on the nearest piece of paper. He swallowed, washed them down with a slug of water. Legs crossed at his ankles, he closed his still burning eyes and waited

Darkness met him. It’d be a while before they kicked in.

Ruben sat, silent, straining his ears to hear any sounds. He remembered the countless times Laura had walked inside the dusty library, floor creaking under her steps, a smile on her lips. A smile only meant for him. There was no smile to greet him when he turned around. No creaking to signal footsteps. No sound.

All was silent. All was still.

A strange surge of feeling ran through him, and for a second he thought he’d cry. He cradled the flask of pills in his palm, body rigid and throat painfully tense and he waited for the feelings to go away. Ruben stared at his workspace, but it was flames he saw, and when he emptied the contents of the small bottle on his palms, the only sound he could identify was Laura’s high pitched scream replaying endlessly in his mind.

And the sight of five men, running away from the barn they’d set afire. His fury soon replaced his sadness.

_‘You’ll pay.’_  His hands shook with emotion as he threw his head back and emptied the rest of the pills in his mouth, this time washing them down with a long gulp of whiskey his dear father used to keep on the drawer of the desk. Thin rays of dawn filtered through closed windows, pale and cold. But no light could fight the darkness in his heart as he remembered once and again and again the sight of the men who were responsible for the fire. For Laura’s death. The reason he couldn’t sleep at night, the searing burning pain following to his dreams every night. He sneered, an ugly twist of dark tissue as he held his hand against his eyes, trying to hide the sight of his bitter tears from the empty, unseeing, uncaring world.  _‘You’ll pay. You’ll suffer as I did. You’ll pay.’_

He’d do what his father should have done years back but had been to ashamed to do. Too much of a coward. Ruben’s nails bit into the flesh of his palms. He’d do justice.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Written as an answer for a prompt/headcannon at imagineruvik, tumblr. 
> 
> Imagine Ruvik working himself to the point where he can barely keep his eyes open, but he wont retire to his room because he doesn't want to have nightmares about the fire.


End file.
